Till Death Do Us Part
by blubs73
Summary: A deeply troubled and mentally unbalanced former Petty Officer fixates on one of the NCIS team.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. Fan fiction is just for fun, not for profit.

Spoilers : 'Good Wives Club' (sort of)

Summary: A deeply troubled and mentally unbalanced former Petty Officer fixates on one of the NCIS team.

I should be working on additional chapters for my current 'Star Trek: Voyager' fic, but then I just happened to watch 'Good Wives Club' again and this idea sort. of crept up on me and wouldn't go away.

I couldn't help but wonder what was going through Petty Officer Barbara Swain's shattered mind as she stood over the unconscious Tony DiNozzo and what happened to the poor girl after her rescue.. How would the so-called experts go about repairing such a vulnerable and damaged psyche - and what if they couldn't?

Talking of damaged psyches; I'm getting a wee bit concerned that my writing seems to have recurring obsessive themes!

Hope you enjoy my first NCIS fic and I sincerely hope that I've done justice to these great characters..

_**TILL DEATH DO US PART**_

**Chapter 1**

**Pine Ridge Medical Center - Morgantown, West Virginia**

It was just so easy for Barbara to walk out of there.

Alice had said it would be. It was only minimum security after all. It wasn't as if any of the patients were psychopaths or serial killers needing 24/7 monitoring.

Their plan had gone like clockwork. All she had to do throughout the morning was surreptitiously tease and agitate poor Celia to the point where the dumb little bitch had one of her epic panic attacks; the type that had her screaming like some banshee and tearing at her own hair and flesh, lashing out at anyone who came within helping distance It took three nurses to restrain her - two holding the struggling traumatized woman as she kicked and spat and screamed obscenities at some unseen horror, while the third tried to administer a sedative.

And while all this was going on and everyone's attention was focused elsewhere, Barbara pulled on her favorite pink sweater over her pretty cotton sundress grabbed some of her personal stuff and walked unchallenged out of her room, past the currently unmanned nurses station, down two flights of stairs, on through reception and then to the front entrance where the ever loyal Alice was parked up and waiting for her in a muddy-colored sedan.

By the time anyone at Palm Ridge realized that former Navy Petty Officer Barbara Swain was missing she would already be halfway to Washington DC.

With Alice at the wheel and driving well within the speed limit, Barbara settled herself comfortably back into her seat, closed her eyes and allowed herself the luxury of a good old-fashioned daydream .

It had taken many long and agonizing months of counseling and therapy and one private hospital after another, for her to finally come to terms with Brett's death. Now she understood that their love was always destined to be short-lived; that he had given his life so that Barbara could find hers. Oh , he would always hold a special place in her heart, but now she had another focus - the man who had rescued her from that dark place. Her savior.

Barbara knew this was true love - the forever kind. And when they were finally together he would love her right back. He just had to.

* * *

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ping and Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo exited, strolling slowly into the bullpen with his head bowed and shoulders hunched; the epitome of a man lost in deep troubled contemplation. 

Blatantly ignoring his co-workers, he dumped his backpack behind his desk, took off his jacket and draped it carefully over the back of his chair, powered up his desk top and then sat with a huge dramatic sigh.

Ziva David and Tim McGee glanced at each other curiously.

"What, no barbed insults? No biting sarcasm or childish innuendo this morning?" Ziva asked, but her only response was another sigh from Tony, this time his breath hitching a little for added effect.

While loathing her own willingness to be drawn into what she assumed was another DiNozzo scam, Ziva nonetheless found herself across the office and perched on the edge of Tony's desk.

"I know I am going to regret asking this, but what's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong?" he asked defensively.

"_Because _DiNozzo," she leaned across his desk until they were practically nose to nose, "you look like a man on the way to his execution."

She caught a whiff of his obviously expensive but subtle aftershave. _Very nice!_

"Well, since when did you start caring, _Zee-vah?_" he sniped. "And what's with _this?" _He rolled his chair deliberately back and as far away from her as he could get in his restricted workspace, a little unsettled by their too close proximity.

"With what?"

"Yesterday you thought I was crass and juvenile and today you're all… touchy, feely. It's just… " he gave a shudder for emphasis,. " …hinky."

"I have a soft, sensitive side," purred the former Mossad agent with a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. "If you search for it."

_Is she flirting with you DiNozzo? _

Tony gave himself a virtual head slap.

_Nah!_

In all honesty, he really didn't have the energy this morning for one of their verbal sparring matches. He was a man in deep doggy doo and what he needed was some constructive advice. Gazing around hopefully at the near empty office, Tony resigned himself to the inevitable.. Ziva David wouldn't normally be his number one choice of confidant, but as his only other option seemed to be _McGeek on_ this occasion she would just have to do.

Ziva settled herself a bit more comfortably on the desk and folded her arms impatiently.

"Come on. What's biting you?"

"Uh…that's _eating. _What's _eating me," _he ventured, then recoiled a little as she narrowed her eyes. "It's Megan," he admitted after a lengthy pause.

"Don't tell me the poor girl has finally seen sense and dumped you!"

"Nuh uh. It's far worse than that," he stated emphatically, choosing not to be offended on this one occasion "She wants us to be…," he made metaphorical exclamation marks in mid-air, "exclusive."

"And that's bad _because?" _asked McGee who had joined them by this time, truly intrigued. He'd only met Tony's latest conquest, Megan O'Neal the one time at a local bar, but to say she was drop dead gorgeous was the understatement of the century. Tall and classy, with honey blond hair, vivid blue eyes and a figure to die for, she was every male's wildest fantasy and then some . DiNozzo was one lucky SOB. They had been dating on and off for nearly three months now, give or take the prolonged periods Megan was out of town on a modeling assignment or when Tony was tied up on a case Discounting the amount of actual time - or lack of - they had managed to spend together, this was still shaping up to be a DiNozzo dating record.

Tony was staring at him as if he was dim-witted. "That's _bad_ probie, because I don't do _exclusive."_

"Maybe that's because you have yet to find the right woman."

"And it was all going so well." Tony lamented, choosing to ignore the woman's strangely evocative behavior in favor of gazing wistfully off into the distance. "Megan's into Tantric yoga. ya know," he added with a dreamy smile. "She can do the most amazing things with her…."

"Enough!" Ziva held up a hand. "We have no wish to hear the ins and outs…"

Both Tony and McGee snickered.

"…_details," _she amended pointedly with a warning glare, "of your sordid sexual fetishes."

"Get your mind out of the gutter, missy," Tony reprimanded with faux indignation "What I was about to say was that she has certain….talents" He shook his head sadly. "I'm sure gonna miss her."

"Don't tell me you're thinking of dumping a major babe like Megan, just because she wants some form of commitment?" McGee intervened, looking aghast.

"DiNozzo wouldn't know _commitment_ if it bit him on the ass,." came the gruff voice from just behind them. As usual, none of the team had been aware of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs's covert approach.

As the older man stalked past them, morning caffeine fix firmly in his grasp, Ziva and McGee practically launched themselves from Tony's desk back to their own. All three soon had their heads down , the living embodiment of diligent federal employees.

"Agent DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked out after several minutes of settling himself at his desk and a long swig of coffee.

"Yeah, boss."

"What's rule number 13?"

"Is that…uh.." Tony was struggling, "…is that the one about bringing livestock into the office?"

"No _DiNozzo," _Gibbs snapped. "That's the one that says you keep details of your personal life to yourself during office hours. Get it?"

"Got it, boss,." came the meek and slightly wounded response.

Gibbs just nodded, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips Anything else he might have been tempted to add was interrupted by his ringing phone. He immediately snatched up the receiver and listened intently for the longest time, while DiNozzo, David and McGee looked on expectantly. As soon as the call had ended he opened his desk drawer to retrieve his gun.

"We have a double homicide. A Lieutenant Commander and a female companion ," he announced. "Let's move."

In the relatively short time it took his well-trained younger agents to grab their own gear and scramble across the bullpen in his wake, Gibbs was already waiting and impatient by the open doors of the elevator.

"_Today people_!"

* * *

A teary-eyed Barbara placed the delicate corsage on top of the small black marble memorial plaque, tracing her fingers lovingly across the simple engraved inscription. 

She'd felt compelled to come here to say a proper goodbye. With her enforced incarceration in one private clinic after another since his death, there had never been an opportunity. Brett deserved to know that it was time to draw a line under their relationship, for Barbara to move on.

Barbara sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with her small white handkerchief. "I have to go," she said softly, "but I will always love you."

With one last lingering look at the memorial, she turned and walked to where the ever-caring Alice waited for her in the shade of a weeping willow.

By the time they made it back to the car, parked just beyond the entrance of the cemetery, Barbara's tears had pretty much dried. Walking through those ornate iron gates sort of symbolized a new beginning for her; leaving the past behind and facing a bright future head on.

And Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was going to play the most vital part of it.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_**TILL DEATH DO US PART**_

**Chapter 2**

By the time he limped back into NCIS headquarters later that afternoon behind Gibbs and his team mates, a sore and battered Tony was just about ready to drop.

What at first had seemed like a routine homicide crime scene investigation - if there ever was one - had turned out to be anything but. There were victims - two of them; Lt. Commander Eric Purcell and his twenty five-year-old girlfriend, Kristen Ward, both shot to death at point blank range when they opened the door to Purcell's estranged wife, Gloria. A woman most definitely scorned.

Fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol , an unrepentant, gun-wielding Gloria subsequently barricaded herself into her former marital home and managed to keep half a dozen armed LEO's and the entire NCIS team at bay for more than two hours, until she tired of it all and decided to surrender. But even then she refused to go down without one last strike at the male of the species in general, and Tony bore the full brunt of her fury as he'd attempted to handcuff her - which included a knee to the groin and a whack over the head with one of her Manolo Blahnik's.

Now sprawled behind his desk, Tony used a little hand mirror to inspect the damage. He gingerly peeled back the temporary field dressing and probed at the nasty, oozing gash just above his left temple, wondering if it would leave a scar.

"Tony," Gibbs called over his shoulder as he jogged up the stairs heading for MTAC, "Go see Ducky and get him to take a proper look at that before you bleed all over those case files."

"Or before your brain leaks out," added Ziva with a playful grin. "Oops, too late."

Tony could choose to ignore the Israeli, but the same rule definitely didn't apply to Gibbs. Pushing himself up wearily from his chair with a mumbled '_Sure boss_' Tony slowly skirted his desk and pointed himself in the general direction of the elevator. That's when he noticed the small white box sitting atop his in-tray.

It was a pretty little package all tied up with purple ribbon, and Tony eyed it warily before picking it up holding it close to his ear and shaking it a couple of times for good measure. He knew the contents had to be harmless, otherwise it would never have made it through the vigorous security scans implemented since the whole YPestis incident.

"What's in the box?"

"Can you stop doing that!" Tony grouched as Ziva materialized almost ninja-like at his side and tried to snatch the box from his hands.

"Mmm…nice perfume, "she teased, inhaling the exotic aroma. "Let's hope it's from a female admirer, huh!"

Holding it above his head and effectively out of her reach until she relented and backed off a little, Tony scowled at the woman. He knew he'd never get rid of her until her curiosity was sated, and so with an exasperated sigh he pulled at one end of the ribbon which unfurled easily from around the box, then he opened the lid and peaked inside. Ziva was almost glued to his side again by this time struggling to see the contents for herself.

A small card was tucked on the inside and Tony extracted it to read the dedication, his expression darkening. Then with two fingers he plucked the delicate corsage from the box and dangled it in Ziva's face.

"This your idea of a sick joke _Zee-vah," _he accused. "cause it's friggin hysterical…not." With a near snarl he angrily crushed the offending items in his hand and tossed them in the general direction of the trash can, before stalking off towards the elevator. His day hadn't gone well so far, and on top of that he had this whole Megan/commitment thing to deal with. He could really do without a so-called friend playing some half-assed prank.

"But I didn't…" a baffled Ziva began to protest, until her eyes lit on the card that now lay crumpled and discarded on the floor. She considered leaving well alone, but curiosity got the better of her so she quickly reached down to snatch it up. With a guilty glance around in case there were any witnesses to her minor transgression. Ziva scanned the wording, and then understood completely why the normally unflappable and mostly good-humored DiNozzo had reacted so dramatically.

It read:

_To my savior_

_Yours forever and ever._

_With love from _

_the future Mrs. Anthony DiNozzo._

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_**TILL DEATH DO US PART**_

Author's note: I know very little about the Chevy Chase Pavilion's car parking facilities or security for that matter, so have used a little "artistic license" in my sketchy description.

Thanks to all for the great feedback. It's always a good motivation to continue with a story I should have more chapters ready to post by the weekend - if I can stop myself from constantly picking over and re-writing them.

**Chapter 3**

"Well, that went well," Tony muttered to no-one in particular as he rubbed the cheek still smarting from Megan's stinging slap.

For a split second he actually contemplated chasing after her as she grabbed her coat and purse and fled the restaurant, but then thought better of it. He wasn't sure he'd actually be able to console the highly emotional and very volatile young woman. And maybe an ending like this was for the best if Megan wanted something he wasn't prepared to give to her or anyone else at this stage in his life.

It had been an entertaining interlude for the diners of this popular little Italian eatery, located in Georgetown, and Tony was very conscious of their not so discreet glances in his direction as he dropped back into his seat. It would take several minutes more for any semblance of normal conversation to resume. At least the owner and maitre d, Giancarlo, was on hand to give his shoulder a sympathetic pat as he topped up his wine glass - Tony nodded gratefully as he took a much-needed mouthful.

He'd brought Megan here so that they could enjoy a quiet evening together on neutral ground just to talk, and it had all started so well. But somewhere between the entrée and main course, when she'd felt the need to bring up the whole 'exclusive' thing _again_, the date had gone all to hell.

Without a doubt he could have and should have handled it better, but common sense and better judgment had flown right out the window when confronted by issues he'd rather not, well…confront. To make matters worse, Megan took Tony's odd mix of discomfort and forced levity to mean that not only did he _not_ want to commit to her, but that he somehow found the whole idea amusing - which couldn't have been further from the truth. Terrifying maybe, but definitely not amusing.

What started out as mild bickering - with words like "immature' and 'commitment phobic' and 'clingy' and 'possessive' tossed back and forth - soon escalated into a heated argument during which Tony asked her point blank if she knew anything about the corsage, and subsequently ended with Megan's open palm connecting painfully with his face.

Tony hung around long enough to finish his wine and get some words of wisdom and a complimentary double espresso from the genial proprietor - who had been married to the same woman for nearly twenty-nine years… Then it was time to finally call it a night.

In the street outside, the light drizzle from earlier in the evening had turned into a steady downpour, and Tony turned up the collar of his jacket against the damp night as he set off to where he'd parked his car, two blocks over near Megan's apartment. Despite the relatively early hour he only passed a handful of fellow pedestrians en route, most wise folk opting to stay indoors on a dismal night such as this one.

By the time Tony had a visual on his mustang the downpour had become a deluge and he sprinted the remaining distance, eager to get under cover before he got too soggy. His cell began to vibrate almost at the same instant he dug into his pocket for his car keys and he fumbled to retrieve both items, almost dropping the small phone into a puddle before flipping it open.

"DiNozzo."

"Tony." The voice was weak and barely discernible, and the incessant patter of rainfall pounding his car and the surrounding asphalt didn't help much either.

"Meg?" Tony asked frowning at her oddly detached delivery, as he yanked his car door open and slid his lean frame inside, sopping wet but relieved to be out of the deluge.

A long pause and some fairly uneven breathing before, "Tony, I need you."

He grimaced. "I thought we went over this tonight…."

His words were cut short by an audible gasp and then came a whimpered, "I'm scared."

"Where are you?" he urged, trying to keep the concern and panic from his own voice. Megan was a lot of things: including beautiful, independent, smart, sassy, as well as demanding, volatile and a little unpredictable at times. But for her to sound this freaked out something had to be wrong.

"Parking lot… Chevy Chase Pavilion…sub-level two. "

He knew the location reasonably well, but couldn't help wondering why the young woman had ended up that far across town…

"I'm coming, " he assured as he started the ignition and steered the car out of its parking space, then executing a perfect, if violent, tire-squealing u-turn that would have made Gibbs proud had he been there to witness it.

"_Please hurry," _were her final words before the connection abruptly ended.

* * *

The underground garage appeared deserted as Tony parked up. It was long past the mall's closing time and he assumed this lower level was mainly used by the staff on night shift A quick flash of his federal badge was all it took to be waved through unchallenged by the pock-marked adolescent manning the gate at street level, who barely glanced up from his computer gaming magazine while his head jerked in rhythm to some monotonous beat from his I-pod. Tony made a mental note to have a word with the youngster on the finer details of security. For now though that could wait; his immediate priority was to find Megan.

The lighting was barely adequate with an entire section cloaked in semi-darkness, and it was from that direction that he heard a faint scuffling sound and then what could have been a muffled sob.

"Meg?" Tony called out softly. Instinctively his hand found its way inside his jacket and his fingers caressed the butt of his gun nestling comfortably in its shoulder holster. Something moved in the shadows and a moment later a visibly disheveled Megan stumbled into sight.

The first thing a shocked Tony noticed was the duct tape covering the lower half of her badly bruised and tear-stained face. Her hands were tied in front of her and she faltered and seemed to sway a little, until the figure behind grabbed her arm and held her upright.

"What …?," was all he managed before something sharp was pressed into his neck.

"Get your hands behind your head and your nose on the ground or I'll cut it off pretty boy," came the growled warning from an obviously female assailant, who pressed the blade into Tony's exposed flesh to make her point. With Megan being held in position by the shadowy figure just a few feet away and in obvious distress, he had very little choice but to do as he was told and he sank to his knees and then to the ground., where rough hands deftly searched him. Although he couldn't see her, he got the impression the woman was tall and solidly built, and by the time she had finished his gun had gone from its shoulder holster and both his belt and wallet had also been removed. Then with little finesse his arms were pulled down to the small of his back, and he winced as cold metal bit into his wrists as handcuffs - presumably his own - were snapped around them.

A few tense moments elapsed during which he was tempted to take a look behind him, but then the woman was kneeling astride him and Tony's couldn't suppress the yelp as his head was yanked back by the hair, and a pungent cloth clamped firmly over his nose and mouth. He retched and fought against the overpowering odor, his body jerking and bucking as he tried to struggle free, but she was strong and held firm. In no time at all his panicked efforts began to weaken and then ceased altogether as the chloroform dulled his senses and finally rendered him unconscious.

Alice kept the chloroform soaked cloth in place until she was absolutely sure he was out cold, and then climbed to her feet breathing heavily from the exertion. She was secretly pleased that Barbara's Fed had put up a bit of a struggle - it was always more enjoyable that way. And there would be plenty more fun times ahead when they got him back home.

Talking of Barbara; she now gave the younger woman her full attention. She still had a firm grip on the scrawny blond just like Alice had told her to, but was staring in wide eyed wonder at the unmoving figure on the ground.

"Didn't I tell you I'd get him for you," Alice crooned softly. "Get the trunk open and then we can load him in," she instructed, prizing her friend away from the sobbing Megan and giving her a gentle push in the direction of their parked sedan.

"In the meantime," she murmured through a detached smile, waiting until Barbara had her back to them before raising Tony's gun to Megan's forehead, "I'll tidy up the loose ends."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

_**TILL DEATH DO US PART**_

**Chapter 4**

"My great aunt Hermione met a similar fate," Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard reflected, as he worked his way methodically around the autopsy table and the body of the late Lt. Commander Eric Purcell. "Hm…yes… it was during the annual shoot on their estate in Perthshire that her husband Angus allegedly mistook her for a grouse and shot her at point blank range. It was tragic really." He shook his head at the memory. "It later transpired that Angus had caught Hermione and the head gamekeeper _flagrante dilecto _and… "

"Um, boss!"

Both men turned as one to see Tim McGee hovering in the doorway of autopsy. Ducky was at first more than a little peeved to have another one of his anecdotes interrupted, particularly when for the first time in - he couldn't remember how long exactly - Leroy Jethro Gibbs had actually seemed to be listening attentively. But the nervous energy radiating off of McGee like some sort of beacon, negated any minor quibbles the elderly doctor may have had.

Gibbs had cocooned himself down here with Ducky to hide out from Director Jenny Shepard, who had been trying to drag his ass into a mind-numbingly boring budget meeting for the best part of a week. Fate had intervened several times with urgent cases, but he knew that unless something world-threatening came along…and soon…he was on borrowed time. Still, Gibbs could see no harm in delaying the inevitable for a while longer.

"This had better be damned important," he growled at his young agent, who paled visibly.

If Jenn had sent McGee down here to retrieve his recalcitrant boss there would be hell to pay.

"There's something you need to see," McGee responded simply. And he straightened and met his bosses accusing glare head on. "It concerns Tony," was all the explanation required. He turned on his heels and headed down the stark white corridor to Ducky's office, not needing to check to know that both men were right behind. Once there McGee switched on the small portable TV to a local news station and then stood off to one side.

"…_there were no witnesses to this brutal murder," _the rather blandly attractive female news reporter advised, "_but sources within the Police Department have revealed that they are keen to locate and question a yet to be named boyfriend of model Megan O'Neal…. More to follow on this tragic story as it becomes available. In other news…" _

"And this concerns DiNozzo…how?" Gibbs asked impatiently grabbing the remote and muting the volume, the relevance or connection not immediately obvious to him.

"Um, she's the same Megan O'Neal that Tony's been dating," McGee explained, not entirely comfortable with the fact that he had to be the bearer of this news - but he'd loss the toss with Ziva. "So there's a good chance he's the prime suspect."

"Shit!"

"Crudely put, but quite apt under the circumstances," Ducky added, looking every bit as concerned as the other two men. "It seems to me Jethro, that we need to find our Tony before the local constabulary do."

"Ya think, Duck?" Gibbs retaliated sharply, immediately regretting the harshness of his tone. But Ducky was not unduly offended; he knew that Gibbs considered it his duty to oversee the safety and well-being of his team, so when one of them was hurt or in trouble he always took it personally.

A split second passed before Gibbs started barking out orders to his subordinate.

"McGee…."

"I've put out a BOLO on Tony's car," the young man cut in efficiently, " Abby's trying to track him via his cell's GPS signal, and Ziva's on the phone right now to the local LEO's to see if we can get …"

All further conversation was halted as the phone on the desk began to trill. With a quick nod of approval from Ducky, Gibbs grabbed the receiver and listened intently. By the time he hung up his expression had darkened further, and without preamble he turned on his heels and headed at a rapid pace back into the corridor and towards the elevator with McGee and Ducky on his heels, rushing to catch up.

"Cancel that BOLO," he instructed as he jabbed at the call button for the elevator again and again. From where he was standing McGee could see a muscle twitching in his boss's jaw, as the man fought to control his emotions. "The car's been located at the scene of Megan O'Neal's murder. No sign of Tony."

"Oh dear." Ducky's simple declaration seemed to sum it up perfectly.

* * *

Lieutenant Jake Liddell glanced around the crime scene, his gaze fixing on the spot - now outlined starkly in chalk - where Megan O'Neal's body had lain. A large pool of blood spreading out from the head like some gory halo.

In his nearly seventeen years of law enforcement he had attended more homicide scenes than he could remember; had witnessed many times over the horrifying confirmation of what one human being was capable of inflicting on another. But that didn't mean he was somehow hardened to it all; it didn't lessen the outrage or dull the repulsion he still felt at the senseless waste of a life. And the tragedy of this one in particular, was that it had the hallmark of a lover's quarrel spiraling out of control.

"Sir, the Navy cops are here," advised one of the uniforms; a young just-out-of-the-academy and eager to please type by the looks of him.

Liddell smiled grimly He'd wondered how long it would take NCIS to come barging in here to protect one of their own.

No sooner had he given his reluctant assent to their entry, a tall lean gray-haired man was stalking towards him followed by two of his agents; an attractive dark-haired female with a 'don't fuck with us' look in her eyes and a young man who reminded Liddell of a bank clerk, even wearing his NCIS uniform baseball cap and jacket.

Tall and gray produced his badge for Liddell's inspection, and then the two veterans eyed each other carefully.

"What have you got for us, Lieutenant?" Gibbs got straight to the point.

While Liddell was a little taken aback by the man's terse delivery, he couldn't fault him for wanting the facts, particularly as they directly concerned one of his agents.

Liddell indicated the immediate area within the crime scene tape, where the Metropolitan Police Department's CSI team was meticulously sweeping the scene.

"Body was discovered at 06.00 by a janitor. Exact ToD has still to be officially confirmed, but our coroner puts it between 23.00 and midnight." Liddell had his notepad to hand, but barely needed to consult it as the hard facts were committed to memory. "The young punk on gate duty last night vaguely remembers your agent arriving, mostly because of his car." All of them stared across at Tony's abandoned mustang, and the two CSI's who were presently going over every square inch of it. "But he can't say for sure if the vic…uh…Miss O'Neal was in the car with him, or not."

He rubbed a hand across too tired eyes. Liddell had been just one tantalizing hour away from the end of a long night shift when the call for this one had come in. "A recently fired Sig Sauer was found beside the body, along with Agent DiNozzo's ID, which we've bagged and tagged."

Ziva snorted dismissively. "That doesn't mean Tony did it."

"Doesn't mean he didn't either," the detective countered not unkindly.

"And he would leave his gun, ID and car behind…because?" the young Israeli spat incredulously.

"Officer David!" Gibbs' stern tone silenced her immediately, though Liddell could tell by the expression on the woman's face that she wasn't happy at all. But he could sympathize with her to a point; if it were one of his team he'd be feeling exactly the same.

"CCTV?" Gibbs indicated the security cameras set high up on the walls at two different positions, which in theory should mean that they effectively covered this entire sub level.

The lieutenant nodded. "Yeah. Tapes have already been confiscated and sent back to headquarters."

"I'd like to get a look at them," Gibbs continued. "I'd also like my team to go over the crime scene."

"Sure," Liddell responded, though he intended to make it crystal clear from the get go that this was his investigation. "Once we're finished here it's all yours."

"What about the body?" McGee asked.

"With the coroner's office." And anticipating the next question Liddell added quickly. "I'll let you have the autopsy report ASAP. But cause of death is almost definitely a single gunshot to the head."

"Uh…Jake…Lieutenant!"

All four turned at the approach of the small red-headed female CSI agent, holding aloft a clear plastic evidence bag containing a folded white cloth.

"We just recovered this from the trash can over there," the woman reported, nodding towards an area just beyond Tony's car. "I can't confirm 100 until we get it back to the lab, but I'm pretty certain it's been doused with Methyl Trichloride. Chloroform," she added with an indulgent smile, in response to the blank look from Liddell. "Could be our killer drugged her before he shot her."

"Now why in hell would Tony do that?" Ziva couldn't help herself. She threw up her hands in exasperation and stormed away from the group, muttering furiously in a mix of Hebrew and English. "This is pigshit,." was just about all they understood.

Liddell whistled softly in open appreciation. "Feisty, isn't she!"

"Tell me about it,." Gibbs responded with something bordering on irony.

* * *

Tony knew he was in real trouble as soon as he struggled up through the murky realms of unconsciousness.

It wasn't just that he was lying in an unfamiliar place with his face pressed into a thin mattress, or the damp chill that assailed his exposed flesh. Oh no. What really told him he was up the proverbial shit creek without a paddle, was the young woman in a wedding dress who was watching him from across the small, sparsely furnished room.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Thirty-six hours after Megan O'Neal's death, there was still no tangible proof that Tony DiNozzo was _not_ her murderer. If anything, Jake Liddell and his homicide team were now even more convinced of his guilt.

And his mysterious disappearance seemed to lend credence to their accusations

What evidence there was from the scene had been collected and catalogued, witnesses interviewed - including the owner of a little Italian restaurant in Georgetown, and the customers who had dined there on the night in question and witnessed the 'lovers spat'; as well as Megan's family and friends, who attested to the fact that that she and Tony had been in a relationship at the time of her death.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't honestly say he was that surprised when someone high up the chain of command decreed that the Metropolitan Police Department be given total jurisdiction, stating that as the victim was a civilian and her alleged murderer a civilian employee of the Navy, this was the correct course to take.

The decision also reeked of damage limitation. In a slow news week, the media interest in the violent death of the young model who was just starting to make a name for herself, began to intensify dramatically. It was just a matter of time before NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo was revealed as suspect No. 1 - and when that happened all hell was bound to break loose.

But for Gibbs, being told in no uncertain terms to _back off _didn't necessarily mean that he couldn't follow his own - discreet - line of investigation. It just so happened that their very own Goth, Abby Sciuto, had once dated a Metro homicide detective. All it took was a quick phone call and a veiled threat to post photos from a New Years Eve bondage party on the Metro PD web pages and suddenly a complete copy of the case file - including Megan O'Neal's autopsy report - was theirs.

Not that this data told them anything they didn't already know. The evidence against Tony was still damning.

Gibbs swore softly under his breath as he closed the folder and tossed it dismissively across his desk. He had the team gathered around him in the bullpen so that they could brainstorm ideas and theories, but they just seemed to go over the same details again and again..

Wearily he began to massage the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, his tired eyes closing for the briefest moment.

"There has to be something else," he muttered to no-one in particular.

From where she sat cross-legged on top of McGee's desk, rocking back and forth, Abby's expression changed in an instant from a sort of ethereal sadness to one of out and out anger.

"You think Detective _Spanky's_ holding out on us, Bossman?" she asked, narrowing her dark eyes suspiciously. "Cause if he is …."

The intent hung in the air and Gibbs smiled despite himself. Heaven help anyone who came between their own sweet forensics specialist and those she cared about most in the world.

"No, Abs," he assured gently. "There's just a huge chunk of this puzzle missing, and to prove that Tony's innocent we need to figure out exactly what's going on here."

"Duh!" Abby's pigtails bobbed about like some strange alien antenna. "Of course Tony's innocent. Some sicko's obviously trying to set him up…_again_."

"Indeed," Ducky contributed with a bemused shake of his head. "It does seem to be a bit of an occupational hazard where he's concerned. It puts me in mind…"

"Duck! Not now," Gibbs warned, "How's that search coming McGee?"

Tim McGee's head peered out from behind his monitor. "I've cross-checked every known felon with a grudge against Tony, including our old friend Chip," he added, pre-empting the question from Abby, "but so far, nothing boss."

"Well, keep trying…"

"Agent Gibbs?"

All focus turned to the skittish young clerk from the mailroom, who had waded hesitantly into the group and now had center stage. He held out a 8x10 manila envelope towards Gibbs.

"This…uh…arrived addressed to Agent DiNozzo, and I know…"

He almost jumped out of his skin as Gibbs snatched the proffered item from his fingers and began inspecting it.

"We ran it through a scanner as a precaution," the clerk managed to get out, despite his nerves. "It's perfectly safe."

He shrank back a little more as Gibbs intense gaze met his, but the older man's next words were completely unexpected and had the young man beaming in relief.

"Good work son."

Even before the mailroom clerk had turned to leave, giving Abby an appreciative leer and a wink on his way out, Gibbs had donned a pair of rubber gloves and set about slitting open one end of the envelope with his penknife. With infinite care he turned it over, noted the Washington DC postmark and then shook it until the contents spilled out onto his desk.

Using a pair of tweezers he lifted the first of the three items, a Polaroid of Megan O'Neal's lifeless body at the scene of her murder; the second was a snapshot of an obviously unconscious Tony DiNozzo, his long frame folded uncomfortably into the trunk of a car, and the third a typed note.

DNOZZO FAMILY

IT WILL COST YOU $2 MILLION TO GET HIM BACK ALIVE.

AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS.

* * *

Just a few hours after former Petty Officer Barbara Swain's fingerprints were lifted from all three items in the envelope, Gibbs and McGee found themselves in the office of Carl Adamski, MD, Head of Behavioral Medicine and Psychiatry at the Pine Ridge Medical Center in Morgantown, West Virginia, while Ziva David was dispatched to talk to the nursing staff and search Swain's room.

Gibbs was not a happy man, and Adamski's off hand attitude wasn't helping matters. The doctor leaned back in his expensive leather chair and folded his hands over his sizeable paunch, exuding and air of casual indifference.

"You wanna explain to me how Barbara Swain just walked out of here?" Gibbs asked tersely.

Adamski met the steely accusing glare, determined not to be intimidated.

"This is a private clinic, Special Agent Gibbs. We have _patients_ here not _inmates. _No electric fences or armed guards patrolling the perimeter," he advised with a smirk, which Gibbs immediately wished he could wipe off of the podgy well-fed face "\Why the interest?" Adamski asked curiously. "According to Barbara's medical records the Navy washed their hands of her?"

"That's not strictly true," McGee intervened. "Admittedly the Swain family were concerned that she wasn't getting the right level of care from the Navy psychiatrists, but it was their decision to move her into a private facility."

"Or hide her away," Gibbs added.

Adamski waved his hand dismissively. "Well for whatever reason Barbara ended up here with us, she was making remarkable progress."

Gibbs snorted.

"And she's been a patient here for…," McGee consulted his note pad, "…five months."

Adamski nodded. "Almost to the day."

"And in all that time she never once left this clinic?" Gibbs asked skeptically.

"As I've already stated," the edge to Adamski's tone made plain his dislike for the older agent, which is why he decided to address his response to the subordinate, McGee, "our patients are not locked up per se. Though in Barbara's case there needed to be a degree of security, mainly for her own protection."

"Then your security sucks," Gibbs cut in glibly.

Adamski looked as if he was about to blow a fuse. His face reddening dramatically, the folds of loose flesh quivering.

"Now look here," he was up and out of his chair. "This is a young woman who has suffered a severe psychological trauma…" He narrowed his eyes and looked from Gibbs to McGee. "What's she supposed to have done anyway?"

"Kidnapping of a Federal Agent for a starter," Gibbs offered. "Possible murder."

"That's completely ridiculous…" Adamski's spluttered protest was interrupted by the insistent buzz of Gibbs' cell, and he sat a fumed quietly as the agent flipped it open and took the call.

"_Gibbs," _Ziva sounded agitated. _"You'd better get over here."_

* * *

McGee whistled softly as he stared at the wall in Barbara Swain's room at Pine Ridge, almost entirely covered with photographs of Tony DiNozzo. Tony out jogging; Tony on his cell; Tony in his car; Tony in NCIS uniform at a crime scene etcetera etcetera. 

"It's a Tony shrine," Ziva felt compelled to state the obvious. "And a lot of them are recent," she added, plucking a stray one up from a small stack left on top of a dresser. This one showed a grinning Tony outside his apartment block talking to a neighbor.

McGee nodded in agreement. "I'd say it was taken within the last month." Gibbs looked at him curiously. "The new haircut!". the young agent prompted.

Gibbs grabbed the shot from Ziva and peered at it closely. "DiNozzo got a different haircut?"

McGee nodded. "About a month ago."

"We had no way of knowing who he was," a forty-something dark-haired Irish nurse by the name of Grace Flanagan advised the assembled group. "Though he's a real cutie, You can see why Barbara was so smitten…" her voice trailed off at Doctor Adamski's unsubtle clearing of throat and intimidating glare.

As if suddenly remembering that the doctor was actually in the room with them, Gibbs stalked across and waved the shot of Tony in the man's face.

"So doc," he spoke amiably, a sure warning to those who knew him well to run for cover. " If Barbara hasn't been out in five months, then where the hell did all of these come from?"

* * *

"I hear you've been ruffling some feathers in Morgantown," Director Jenny Shepard got straight to the point as Gibbs entered her office carrying two cups of steaming hot coffee, one of which he slid across the desk to her before he took a seat. "A Doctor Carl Adamski has just lodged a formal complaint about your 'abrasive manner'."

"Pompous ass," Gibbs snarled by way of a response and earned himself an amused grin from his former partner.

"Now you're starting to sound like Ducky," she chastised good-naturedly Then quite suddenly her expression darkened. "I hope you have some good news for me Jethro? I've got a Police Commissioner who's spitting blood because of our interference in a high-profile Metro murder investigation."

Gibbs shrugged indifferently. "They can keep their murder investigation. I'm only interested in finding my agent and bringing him home safely."

"That's the problem," she sipped carefully at the scalding brew. "Not everyone's convinced that Tony's innocent. They think the kidnap is all part …"

"I agree." .

"What?"

Still reeling from shock and not quite believing what she'd heard, Shepard had a frustrating wait while Gibbs took an overly long swallow of coffee, and was almost at the point of beating the details out of him when he continued on.

"Oh, Tony's innocent," he said without the shadow of a doubt.. " But this whole kidnap thing is…hinky. Why ask for just $2 million? Why not 5 or10 or 20? From what I know about Tony's old man, he could certainly afford it. And why send the ransom note here and not to the family home."

"Well, it's common knowledge that Tony doesn't get on with his father, so maybe…"

"Nah!" Gibbs was shaking his head adamantly. "Call it instinct or…whatever, but this doesn't feel right Jenn. Barbara Swain is a very sick young woman, but I don't believe she's a murderer and there's no way she could have arranged Tony's kidnapping alone." He got up abruptly, tossed his empty cup into the trash and headed for the door. "There's someone else involved here, and they're playing a dangerous game.."


	6. Chapter 6

_**TILL DEATH DO US PART**_

**Chapter 6**

"What's that?" Tony eyed the bowl suspiciously as Barbara settled herself on the edge of his cot.

She gave him a bright smile as she stirred the steaming concoction, before loading the spoon with a generous dollop and almost shoving it in his face. "It's oatmeal."

"Ew." His expression turned to one of abject disgust and he tried to edge as far away from her as his restraints would allow. "I hate oatmeal." Memories of one of his childhood nannies practically force-feeding him the stuff returned with a vengeance. "Can't I get a pepperoni pizza instead?" he asked hopefully, trying to dredge up his most disarming smile, but not quite getting there.

Barbara giggled, though she wasn't about to give in. "You need to eat something," she insisted, "and if you won't take it from me, then Alice says she'll be happy to come feed you. instead" Those last words were delivered matter-of-factly and with no rancor at all, but the underlying threat was definitely there.

He had no way of knowing exactly how long he'd been here - his memories were fuzzy to say the least - two/three days at a guess, but definitely long enough to have already been on the receiving end of Alice's explosive temper; he had the cuts and bruises to prove it. And there was the other freaky stuff too; like the way she kept jabbing him with those friggin enormous needles, loaded with god knows what crap. Sometimes just enough to make him feel kind of mellow and floaty, other times he was out like a light in seconds.

On a brighter note, at least Barbara had ditched the wedding dress now that they had entered into what she termed 'the honeymoon period', in favor of normal everyday clothing. And they'd given him something to cover himself with too; blue and white striped pajamas, which reminded him of a similar pair that Rock Hudson wore in one of those Doris Day romantic comedies.

With another prompt from Barbara, he reluctantly opened his mouth and let her spoon feed him the oatmeal, managing to swallow it without gagging, though his stomach growled in protest.

"Uh, Barbara, what are the little chunky bits?" Tony asked around another mouthful.

"Vegetables," she beamed. "I managed to sneak them in without Alice seeing, as an extra special treat. Good huh?"

"Yum, yum!" He grinned miserably.

He just hoped he didn't die of food poisoning before Gibbs came to the rescue.

Three more tortuous portions later, and he held up a manacled hand as far as he could to indicate that he'd finally had enough. And to his immense relief, Barbara gave a nod of approval and set the bowl to one side. Almost immediately she stood and began tidying the claustrophobic underground space that had become his world, which contained two cots, a table and four chairs, a steel and chrome latrine and wash basin in one corner, which he could just about reach when permitted. Stacked metal shelving lined two of the walls, with row upon row of canned foods, blankets, bottled water and every other item needed for an extended stay. Some sort of shelter he had deduced early on.

"I could help you with that," he tried hopefully as Barbara started methodically sweeping non-existent dust off the spotless concrete floor, "if I could actually get up and move around a bit." He jangled the leather and metal shackles for emphasis.

All he got for his effort was an indulgent roll of her eyes and a giggle. "Don't be silly," Barbara scolded sweetly, "it's my job to keep things nice for you. You just lay back and relax."

She started humming and Tony fought the urge to scream in frustration, instead he took a deep breath and decided on a slightly different tact.

Schooling his features into what he hoped was a look of contentment he flashed her a smile every time she looked in his direction - which was often.

"What's it like…outside?" he asked casually.

Barbara took a break from her favorite wifely chore and turned to stare at him. "The weather?" she asked guardedly and was rewarded with an emphatic nod of his tousled head. "It…it's a beautiful day," she continued.

"Don't you just love the fall?" he gave a wistful sigh. "It's a real shame I can't see it for myself, on account of there being no windows down here and all." He timed his next words carefully, so that it looked as if the idea had just popped into his head. "Hey Barbara, you know what I would really, really like?" he asked, not necessarily needing a response. "To go for a walk…with you." One…two…three.. " Ah I can just see us now. The late September sunlight on our faces, a cool but gentle breeze touching the trees, you and me hand in hand…"

She stood about six feet away from the end of his cot, all sweeping clearly forgotten as she closed her eyes and let her fragile mind wander elsewhere, influenced by Tony's gentle prompting.

"What are you two lovebirds yacking about?"

Barbara gave a small start as she was brought out of her reverie when Alice appeared half-way down the metal ladder leading into the chamber. Tony cursed under his breath at the sight of the stocky woman. He just hoped Barbara had the good sense not to blab.

She grinned adoringly down at her man before half-turning to face Alice. "Tony was being an old romantic," she confessed, obviously thrilled at the concept. "He wants us to go for a walk together."

_Shit._

Alice snorted derisively, turning her intense but amused gaze on him. "I just bet he does."

As much as he hated himself for his fear of this woman, Tony found himself edging his way up the cot at her too casual approach. until his back pressed into the cold concrete wall. In one hand she held a Polaroid cameras which she handed across to Barbara as she moved past, the other hand out of sight behind her back.

Tony swallowed nervously.

"Just relax, pretty one," Alice crooned, though her dulcet tones weren't fooling Tony for one minute. He knew from bitter experience that this woman was unhinged with definite sadistic tendencies. The fact that she was so solidly built and there was little he could do in his present predicament to defend himself, didn't help much either.

"Listen, you don't need to…" his panicky protestation ended as she grabbed up the thin length of chain lying discarded on the floor beside his cot, and in one rapid move had it looped over his head and around his neck, one-handedly tightening her grip until she had him in a choke hold. He pulled desperately at the restraints around his wrists but there just wasn't enough give..

"Be still." Alice yanked on the chain violently until Tony had no choice but to comply and lay there docilely, his breathing labored as he struggled to stay conscious as the metal biti into already bruised flesh.

On the periphery of his blurred vision, Tony caught sight of the syringe just as she jabbed it with some force into the muscle on his upper arm.

"Don't hurt him!" Tony heard Barbara plead meekly as his reality began to tilt and sway then rotate alarmingly.

"It's okay," Alice soothed, only releasing Tony and letting him fall back heavily onto the cot when she was certain the strong sedative had taken affect . "We just need some more pictures for the family album."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Gibbs came into the basement lab with Lieutenant Jake Liddell in tow to find his team checking out the latest batch of Tony photos, delivered that morning with a second note in an unmarked padded envelope. This package had consisted of a surprise additional item as well; a small vial of blood, which was presently undergoing detailed analysis.

"Nice pajamas," McGee commented absently, as he studied one particularly disturbing shot.

"Yuck. Tony wouldn't be seen dead in those nasty things," Abby bristled protectively. "Besides, he always sleeps in the buff…" her voice trailed away as she realized that startled eyes were now entirely focused on her. "…or so one assumes."

Her normally pale cheeks pinked up nicely.

"You know what they say about assumption Abs," Gibbs offered, as he came up behind the group and peered over their shoulders.

Ziva half-turned to look inquisitively from their visitor back to her boss.

"Lieutenant Liddell dropped by to update us on the investigation," Gibbs explained quickly at the unspoken question, mostly to counter any forthcoming biting aside from his agent. "And to let us know that Tony is officially _off the hook." _

Abby narrowed her eyes and scowled menacingly at the detective.

"We could've told him that!"

In actuality, Liddell and his own homicide team had known that Anthony DiNozzo was an innocent victim long before the decision was finally taken to share their findings with NCIS. Chief amongst the overwhelming and mounting proof was the security camera footage from the mall parking garage; even though the real perpetrators had chosen the location well to ensure all of the action took place just out of camera range or in the shadows. Too bad for them also that as yet they had been unable to identify the driver and passenger of a battered tan sedan, filmed arriving and leaving that evening.

He had argued heavily in favor of a joint investigation, but the usual petty inter-departmental bureaucracy had gotten in the way of good old-fashioned common sense for a while. This is what had fuelled his decision to come here personally this morning. And he was glad he had.

"Just doing my job," he offered to the striking-looking scientist, with a semi-apologetic shrug.

"Which is what you three should be doing," Gibbs growled out. Now wasn't the time for finger-pointing. "Okay, what have you got for me?"

Tim McGee immediately rolled across to a computer and pulled up the data he needed. When the pressure was on he often found more it more productive working down in Abby's domain, where a little of her genius could hopefully rub off on him.

"Pine Ridge was the second private clinic for Barbara Swain in 18 months," he advised, scanning the screen and picking out the relevant information and dismissing what Gibbs would term useless trivia. "The other one was right here in DC."

It was Ziva's turn to contribute now. "She was diagnosed with severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, as a direct result of what Brett Evans subjected her to. But according to her medical file it seems she was also suffering from a mild psychosis, probably originating from early childhood.

"Mental illness can often be difficult to detect," she added quickly, before Gibbs had the chance to ask how the hell Barbara Swain had passed her Navy Psyche Evaluation. "And there's no indication that she was treated for any problems previously. So we must assume that her family either knew and covered it up, or that Barbara devised her own way of dealing with it." The young Israeli shrugged, letting her teammates draw their own conclusions as to what might have occurred in Barbara Swain's troubled past.

"That wacko chaplain sure knew what he was doing when he picked her," Abby commented for all of them.

McGee took up again smoothly. "Even though she was transferred to Pine Ridge to be closer to the family home, Barbara's mother has visited on just two occasions that we know of. The only other visitors were a former roommate from Quantico, who's currently serving overseas… and an Alice Spurlock." He tapped the keyboard and pulled up a different file, which included a portrait of a hard faced woman. "She was a nurse at Pine Ridge, but left suddenly in June when her father got sick. According to her co-workers, even though she was caring for him right up until his death at the beginning of August, she still found time to go back on a pretty regular basis to visit with a couple of former patients."

"That is one caring nurse," Ziva leaned in for a closer look and winced at Spurlock's less than flattering head shot .

"Well, at least it's a place to start," conceded Gibbs.

"Alice is currently living on the family farm in Barbour County, which is…"

"A hell of a round trip to Pine Ridge," Gibbs interjected, already striding for the exit. "Ziva, you're with me. McGee….?"

"The local Sheriff's Office is expecting you, boss. "

* * *

Alice Spurlock didn't have that many visitors to her home. In fact, she generally did everything she could to discourage them; particularly the local busybodies from Moatsville. But today she positively reveled in the company.

Swaying back and forth on the old porch swing, she supped at her home made lemonade and politely answered the questions from the two Navy cops and the DC Police Lieutenant, giving them the obligatory responses with a little shock and concern thrown in for good measure every now and then.

All those times before, the deaths had been declared as suicide or natural causes - just like Papa's. If she'd only realized what an adrenaline rush could be had from getting up close and personal with the Feds!

And while she was on the subject; she wondered if NCIS had appreciated that blood sample taken from their golden boy, along with the ransom notes and those photographs with Barbara's prints all over them. They had been an inspired idea and she wanted to giggle at her own audacity. Instead, she kept her expression neutral as she gave the swing an extra push, taking pleasure from the fact that the grating squeak was obviously irritating the hell out of the foreign female agent.

"Poor Barbara," she sighed yet again. "Who would have thought she was capable of such terrible things."

"When was the last time you saw or spoke to Ms. Swain?" Gibbs, the senior agent was asking her. He had nice blue eyes, but she wasn't altogether happy with the way they were fixed on her, as if he could read her thoughts; see right into her soul.

She made a show of mulling this question over before responding. "About two weeks back."

"And Barbara was acting normally?" asked Ziva, staring deliberately at the woman sitting opposite her on the porch swing from hell. Her photo had actually done her justice, because in the flesh Alice Spurlock was an unremarkable looking individual. Bleached blonde mid-length hair was pushed off her face by an Alice band, that seemed incongruous with her hard features. She was tall as well - easily topping six feet - and today her big frame was dressed in a pair of faded denim jeans and a loose-fitting tee shirt.

"Define _normal _for a patient diagnosed as mentally unstableOfficer Davis?"

"_David," _came the curt correction. "You visited regularly with her and another patient…a Celia Chadwick?"

"Yup, that's right. Poor sweet things didn't get many visitors to speak of," Alice shook her head sorrowfully. "\But it was always a pleasure, never a chore."

"Still. That's a _lot_ of driving," Jake Liddell observed, echoing an earlier comment from Gibbs.

"I love my work," she said earnestly, turning her attention to him, her tone losing the curtness directed at Ziva. "Besides up until recently I lived in Morgantown, near the clinic. Only moved back home when Papa started to get sick. Those girls came to depend on me. I couldn't let them down, so I went back as often as I could."

Ziva was far from finished, but decided on a slight change of tact. "Though no-one is questioning your dedication, I am curious to know why you have moved around so much. Pine Ridge was your…." she consulted her notes and the potted profile McGee had called through while they were still on the road "…fourth place of employment in the last seven years alone."

"I didn't know it was a crime to change jobs, Officer Davis," Spurlock responded, with a hint of irritation creeping back into her otherwise amicable performance.

"_Da-vid. _And it's just an observation."

While Ziva riled Spurlock, Gibbs took a good look around at the farm and its surrounding from his vantage point on the porch. The two-story wood-paneled house could have benefited from some minor repairs and a lick of paint here and there, but otherwise seemed in good condition.

"Nice place you have here," he offered, neatly interrupting the verbal sparring between the two women. "How many acres?"

With not much effort, Alice dragged her icy gaze from Ziva and produced her best smile for the attractive man. "125 acres in all. But I'm looking to sell up now that Papa's gone."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said amused. "I never was much for hog farming. Couldn't wait to get rid of the stupid critters. Sold every last one of 'em to a meat processing plant in town." Unrepentant, she took a long, satisfying and noisy slurp of her lemonade.

And then, as if prompted by some unseen force, Gibbs got to his feet, closed his note book and slipped it into his inside pocket. Ziva and Liddell mimicked his actions, even though the detective looked ever so slightly mystified.

"Thank you for your time, Miss Spurlock," Gibbs said graciously as he reached out to shake her hand. "We'll be in touch if we have any more questions."

"Any time Agent Gibbs," she crooned, rubbing her thumb across the back of his hand. "Anything I can do to help…"

"Um…uh…pardon me!"

Reluctantly releasing her grip on Gibbs' hand, Alice turned her attention back to the annoying female agent who was smiling at her sheepishly.

"May I use your…uh…facilities? It's a long drive back to DC."

Alice's head jerked towards a cluster of ramshackle buildings. "There's an out house over there. Help yourself."

If the foreign witch thought she was setting one foot into the main house to nose around while Gibbs and the detective kept her busy, then she had another thing coming. She would never fall for that old ruse.

A moment later and despite any pent up ire, Alice was fighting to suppress a smirk at the sight of Ziva traipsing across the muddy yard. She wondered what the reaction would be if the female Fed knew that Tony and Barbara were literally beneath her feet.

* * *

"There was no sign of a tan colored sedan," a disappointed Ziva reported once they were back in their car and headed into Moatsville, "just a truck in one of the barns. Though I didn't get a chance to have a proper look around." She shook her head in irritation.

"There are still a lot of unanswered questions, " Jake Liddell muttered from the back passenger seat. "I assume we're going back with a warrant?"

Gibbs nodded, speaking without taking his eyes from the dirt road ahead. ""Should be one waiting for us when we meet up with Sheriff Coltrane."

"Then why are we leaving?" Ziva asked in exasperation. "Gibbs, she knows something…"

"I know that," he shot back. "Which is why we need to tread carefully, and why I'm letting you out here." The car came to a skidding halt, with Gibbs popping the trunk almost immediately. "Grab the gear and head back towards the farm. But you are purely to observe, Officer David," he stated pointedly. "Under no circumstances are you to approach the property, or confront Alice Spurlock until we've returned with the warrant and the manpower to execute a proper search - unless it's a life or death situation. Am I making myself clear?"

"But…" she actually started to protest until she caught the icy death glare.

"That's a direct order," he continued, with more than a hint of menace. "And if you're actually stupid enough to disobey it, then your ass is on the next plane back to Tel Aviv. Get that?"

Ziva nodded, perfectly aware that he meant every word. "Understood."

"Good. So what are you waiting for?" he growled out impatiently. "And don't forget to check in every 15 minutes."

His cell began to ring.

* * *

With a hyper Abby literally wringing her hands and pacing frenetically behind him, Ducky Mallard speed-dialed Gibbs's cell number. and was intensely relieved to hear the familiar and authoritative tone as he picked up on literally the second ring.

For once the Englishman got straight to business. "The news is not good, I'm afraid," he advised a bit more abruptly than intended, but he felt a semi-professional approach was called for under these dire circumstances. "The blood sample is definitely Tony's. And it's showing worryingly high levels of Haloperidol, an anti-psychotic, and Hydrocodone a painkiller known more commonly in the United States as Vicodin, among others. Taken separately and in their correct doses they are all fairly harmless, but together they make for a lethal cocktail. And given that he's only been missing for a few days, the levels in Tony's system are already worryingly high."

The elderly medic let his words hang in the air long enough to cast a concerned glance in Abby's direction, and it took him a few moments to recover enough to continue, with an urgency to his tone . "Jethro, I don't need to stress how desperately important it is that you find him…and soon."

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay! This fic is officially weird - and a little creepy - even for me. Last chapters coming very soon.

A big thanks for the reviews.

**Chapter 8**

Damn. Damn. Damn

With some difficulty, Alice managed to stay calm and in control after her visitors had left. But Barbara's sudden and hesitant appearance in the kitchen doorway - when she'd been specifically told to stay below and out of sight - was the catalyst for the tenuous rein on her turbulent psyche to go all to hell.

Overpowered by a blind all-consuming rage, Alice screamed obscenities and physically hurled any object that came to hand until the terrified Barbara fled in panic. Then, way beyond reasoning and sanity, she tore through the house like a tornado leaving a trail of utter carnage in her wake.

In the kitchen, pots pans and cutlery flew every which way and her mother's treasured bone china dinner service was cleared from the old pine dresser with the jagged end of a broken broom stick, to shatter into a thousand scattered pieces all over the black and white tiled floor.

Afterwards, as Alice knelt amid the devastation struggling to catch her breath as great heaving sobs racked her body and frustrated tears coursed down her ruddy cheeks, she wondered why it had gone so badly wrong.

For once in her life, all she had wanted was to do something nice for someone she cared about; Barbara, the only person who had ever shown her genuine unconditional affection.

An only child, Alice had grown up believing that her parents didn't really give a damn about her. Her mother - a diagnosed schizophrenic - was in an out of hospital throughout Alice's formative years, leaving her mostly at home alone with a father who was more interested in his hogs, or in his paranoid preparations for a nuclear holocaust. That's why she had left home as soon as she could and sort of drifted into nursing.

The first death occurred a year or so after she'd properly qualified and taken a job nursing the terminally ill in a hospice in Charleston. In those early days her actions were fuelled primarily by the need to spare her patients needless pain and suffering. It was just so simple to add a little something into an IV line, or to hold a pillow over a face and keep it there until the already frail body succumbed.

Her warped version of mercy transformed to out and out sadism when she moved into psychiatric care. Far from giving a damn for her patients' well-being, she saw them only as pathetic, dysfunctional miscreants who were a burden to society, and believed it was her duty to get rid of them. Being a big solidly built woman who was stronger than a lot of men, Alice had no problem restraining a struggling victim as she administered an overdose of painkiller or sliced into an artery. Making it look like suicide or murder -with the blame being conveniently apportioned elsewhere - became her speciality. And the sense of euphoria and invincibility that came with every single death only fuelled what over time became a sort of addiction.

But all that changed when she met Barbara Swain at Pine Ridge.

She had no idea what it was about Barbara that set her apart from the other patients; but from early on a bond formed between the two with Spurlock easily cajoling and manipulating the vulnerable, needy young woman to a point where she would blindly follow her just about anywhere. And when Barb revealed her fixation for a certain drop-dead gorgeous Special Agent, Alice's twisted loyalty went into overdrive.

With her Papa's convenient illness giving her the perfect excuse, and financial resources, she resigned from her job at Pine Ridge. And in between nursing the old bastard - which mostly entailed giving him enough painkiller to knock him out for a solid 12 hours - she would drive herself into DC and shadow and photograph the man who gradually became as much of an obsession to her as to Barbara.

Killing the O'Neill bitch, then kidnapping Tony and bringing him here had all been for Barbara, with Alice reveling in the young woman's almost puppy dog devotion and in Tony's enforced submission.

Now Gibbs and those other meddlers wanted to bring it to an end. Well, to hell with that! If it was over, then she was going to make damn sure it ended on her terms.

Alice cursed her own stupidity for sending those snapshots covered in Barbara's fingerprints to NCIS, though the blood sample and ransom note had been had been inspired. She'd only done it to liven things up a little, to prove that she could outsmart the best. She never had any intention of letting them take Barbara away from her. In fact, when the sale of the farm was completed they would have enough money to go somewhere far away and start over.

Now with the Feds breathing down her neck, there was only one way out of this mess.

Tony's death had always loomed as a sad but necessary inevitability, but that had seemed a long way off when they had finished playing with him. Prolonging things wasn't an option any more.

Wiping away tears and snot with the back of her hand, Alice climbed to her feet and went to retrieve her med kit from the little closet under the stairs and headed for the back door, stopping on the way only long enough to grab a large carving knife from the kitchen counter.

* * *

Ziva skirted the farm, keeping mostly to the densely wooded area surrounding the property. Even with so much natural cover, it was proving difficult to find the right location to dig in and keep watch as ordered. She'd moved twice in the last thirty minutes alone and now cursed in her native language as she found her view of the house from her current position obstructed by a big red barn.

Pausing to make her compulsory 15 minute check in, she grabbed the gear and set off at a jog once again.

* * *

Barbara glanced nervously back towards the entrance of the shelter, as she unbuckled the manacles on Tony's wrists and then his ankles.

She rested her palm against his cold and clammy skin, before giving his cheeks a gentle pat in an attempt to rouse him. "Come on Tony, wake up," she urged. He'd been scarily unresponsive since Alice had given him a shot that morning. _"Just to keep him relaxed," _she'd assured a fretting Barbara.

But what was the point of that? The whole reason for bringing him here in the first place was so that he and Barbara could be together, so why then did Alice keep giving him her _little potions. _There was no chance at all that their relationship would flourish if he was unconscious 24/7. Besides, Barbara liked it best when he was awake. He had such a nice smile.

A few minutes more of gentle prompting, prodding and a slap here and there and she finally got a response as he stirred, his eyes flickering open to half mast to stare up at her dazedly.

"Go 'way," he slurred almost indistinctly, as his shaking hand reached out to bat away the blurry figure looming over him. Tony wanted nothing more than to curl up around his squishy pillow and go back to sleep. He'd been having such nice dreams with no hurts in them at all, so why was this person shaking him again and telling him to do something.

"Tony, we have to leave…now," Barbara's anxiety levels had risen even in the last few minutes and she could feel the palpitations beginning.

Alice had been acting weird ever since those police officers had left. Barbara knew they'd come here because of her and felt guilty for causing all this trouble, but she had a feeling that something really bad was coming, and even if it meant defying Alice she wasn't prepared to sit back and let anything happen to her Tony.

Barbara had witnessed and bore the brunt of her friend's volatile temper on more than one occasion, but this time was far worse than anything she 'd seen before.

With a strength born of desperation, Barbara eventually managed to manhandle the tall man into a sitting position and then to his feet, where he swayed and stumbled until she got her shoulder beneath his arm and was able to support him all the way to the ladder.

He gave an unconvincing nod when she asked him if he could climb up.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Report McGee," Gibbs ordered, as soon as his ashen-looking junior agent appeared on screen. Ducky and Abby were crowding the young man, though he didn't seem at all bothered by their proximity.

Gibbs had his own eager audience hovering close to where he'd set up the laptop on a spare desk in the Moatsville Sheriff's Office, in the shape of Jake Liddell and Sheriff Frank Coltrane

"Alice Spurlock qualified as a nurse in 1991," McGee began promptly, "and since that time has worked in no fewer than nine different clinics - all based within West Virginia. 18 months to 2 years is the most time she's ever stayed in one place.

"Despite glowing endorsements from a couple of her former employers, her record is far from exemplary. She was reprimanded on a number of occasions for using unnecessary force when restraining patients in her care, but worse still she's been implicated in at least three assisted suicides. Though with no hard evidence to back up these claims, charges were never brought." McGee shook his head in consternation. "There are a further three known cases where her name comes up, but who knows how many other deaths were conveniently covered up, presumably to save the families in question further grief."

"Or more likely to avoid a costly lawsuit," Ducky huffed indignantly. "I can't believe that no one bothered to thoroughly investigate this woman before employing her. Surely all they had to do was run a decent background check, or at the very least talk to her former employers or colleagues."

McGee nodded solemnly, with a frown darkening his usually amiable and open face. His next words chilled Gibbs to the bone.

"Boss, I think we could have a serial killer on our hands."

* * *

"There was always something odd about the Spurlock's."

Sheriff Coltrane was giving Gibbs and Jake Liddell a potted history of the Spurlock family as they drove back out to the farm with a search warrant. A patrol car followed close behind.

"_Odd _in what way?" Liddell asked curiously from the back seat.

"Well for starters," Coltrane continued, removing his hat and running a hand through his unruly mop of dark hair, "Willard Spurlock, Alice's daddy, was known as a bit of an eccentric. Way before 9/11, he was convinced that we were on the brink of a nuclear war." He chuckled. "Rumor has it that he even built a nuclear shelter under one of the barns."

* * *

Finally locating an ideal spot that afforded her an almost unrestricted view of the farm, Ziva settled herself down to watch and wait until Gibbs arrived. And according to their last conversation he was only about 20 minutes out.

The farm itself was eerily still, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she might have missed something important during the time she was scouting the area. Her instincts and some annoying inner voice were urging her to move in for a closer look, but she had no wish to disobey Gibbs.

But the decision was taken out of her hands when she heard the chilling scream.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I've been frantically writing and re-writing. Thanks to all for the reviews and feedback.

**Chapter 10**

Alice's almost inhuman cry echoed around the derelict barn and beyond, as she stood at the entrance to the now empty shelter.

Her tortured mind was unwilling to accept Barbara's betrayal, deciding instead that Tony must have coerced her into it somehow. Well he was sure going to pay for it when she caught up with him.

Still clutching the knife and the med kit Alice ran outside, knowing exactly where the couple would go and that they couldn't have much of a lead, not with the dose of sedative she'd given Tony that morning.

Shouting Barbara's name again and again, Alice followed them into the woods.

* * *

Ziva threw caution to the wind and broke cover, at almost the same moment Alice Spurlock came out of the big barn and started running towards the line of trees beyond the farm house.

* * *

To Tony's drug addled brain the escape into the creepy woods seemed surreal, almost like some freakish 'Blair Witch' hallucination.

The thing was, he couldn't actually remember what he was running from, just that it was really bad. Knew from the way that someone was tugging on his hand and practically dragging him along, urging him breathlessly to move faster, that maybe his life depended on it.

They fought their way through dense undergrowth, where sharp jagged branches snagged at his thin layer of clothing or caught in his hair, some gauging deep scratches along exposed flesh; and clambered over steep mounds of woodland detritus, stumbling occasionally at some hidden obstacle along the way. After a time Tony started to flag noticeably and it was all he could do to put one leaden foot in front of the other. Then his bare feet caught in a tangle of shrubbery and he went down sprawling, his breathing labored and ragged from the exertion.

Despite a freaked Barbara's efforts to urge him up and on, he was determined to stay right where he was for a few minutes - or at least until the trees overhead stopped that crazy spinning thing.

He was lucid enough to realize that they hadn't made much ground, but he just didn't have the energy or inclination to move right at that moment. Days of lying inert, trussed up and drugged out of his head had taken their toll, and he was suddenly weak as a proverbial kitten. Only adrenalin and Barbara's constant nagging had got him out of his underground prison and kept him going, but now he wasn't sure he had anything left..

"Tony, you have to get up. She's coming."

"S'nice, "he slurred, rolling onto his back. "Ya know what. I'm just gonna lay here for a minute."

Actually it really was a nice place to be, if you ignored the prickly things digging into his barely clad ass. The late afternoon sun filtering through the trees bathed him in a warm all over tingly glow.

"We have to keep moving," Barbara was clawing desperately at his arm again. What was it with her! "Alice is going to kill you."

It was true to say that nothing worked quite like the threat of imminent death to clear a foggy brain, and with a lot of effort Tony managed to push himself up on his elbows to gaze back along the deserted track. From there he rolled onto all fours and struggled sluggishly to his feet, using Barbara and the trunk of an old spruce as support. He had just enough time to take a few steadying breaths before Barbara grabbed his hand and they were on the move again.

They had nearly made it all the way across a clearing, when a shrill scream from Barbara was the only warning before something heavy slammed into Tony and took him back down - hard. His temple struck the edge of a rock as he landed, and his brain had just a few scant seconds to register that pain before it was joined by another one burning a hot trail across his chest and then back and forth across his exposed forearms, as he raised them instinctively to shield himself.

Some innate sense of survival or a pure stubborn streak wouldn't let him go down without some sort of fight back, so he struck out with his feet and was rewarded by a yelp and then a curse as he connected with soft flesh. But it didn't take long at all for Alice Spurlock to recover from his weak attempt at self-preservation before she resumed her frenzied attack; lashing out again and again until Tony did the only thing he could under the circumstances and curled his body into a tight ball in a vain attempt to protect it. He couldn't suppress the hiss of pain each time the edge of the blade scored another long bloody line down his exposed back.

He lay there, breathing hard and trembling, waiting for another strike or for the blade to finally plunge into his flesh. But instead Alice grabbed his arm forcefully and literally dragged him the few feet to where Barbara cowered in abject terror, dumping him in a heap in front of her.

"Now look what you've made me do," Alice snarled accusingly at the younger woman, before rewarding Tony's groan with a spiteful kick to his side. Barbara started to cry, but Alice was too far gone to be moved by tears. "You've ruined everything."

"I…I didn't mean to," Barbara whimpered "Alice please don't hurt him any more. I promise to be good."

The big woman shook her head. "I took good care of you, didn't I? Everybody else let you down but me. You wanted him," she spat out, emphasizing the point with yet another kick," and I got him for you. And what do I get in return, huh? Disloyalty that's what."

Barbara shook her head in denial, wiping the back of her hand over her tear-stained and grimy face.

All the while Alice kept up her furious verbal invective directed at Barbara, Tony was suffering from the physical onslaught, with a series of blows and slashes that finally stole what remaining strength he had and left him barely conscious, bloodied and hurting. With not much effort at all, Alice knelt down beside the inert form and easily flipped him over onto his back.

"I intended to give him something to send him on his way peacefully and painlessly." She tugged at the already torn and stained remnants of his pajama shirt Her cold eyes rose briefly to meet Barbara's. "But it's too late for that now. This is how you're always gonna remember him."

Alice pulled a boneless Tony into a sitting position and then moved in behind, holding him upright as one big hand got a bruising grip on his jaw and forced his head back so that she could lay the edge of the knife against his exposed throat. His eyes flickered open momentarily, but other than that there was no reaction or resistance at all; he was way past struggling now. "Once I've finished this we'll need to dump him somewhere, and be long gone before his Fed friends come back to snoop around some more."

"I don't think so!"

If Alice was shocked as Ziva David moved steadily and deliberately into her line of sight across the clearing, then she did a good job of concealing it. Only a muscle twitching in her jaw and a slight tremor in her knife hand attested to any emotion at all.

Doing her best not to let the sight of a battered DiNozzo distract her too much, Ziva kept her firearm leveled on the big woman. "Put down the knife and move far away from him. Now! Or so help me…"

"Or what, Officer _Da-vid_?" Alice sneered, relinquishing her grip on Tony's face to shift him slightly so that more of his upper body shielded her own. "Do you think you can stop me in time to save him?"

Even from several feet away Ziva could see the tiny trickle of crimson oozing from beneath the blade. "Don't tempt me."

That comment was met with a derisive snort. And then… "Let me tell you what's going to happen. You're going to put down your gun and move way across there." Alice indicated the spot with a jerk of her head. "And then me and Barb are going to leave…and we'll be taking Tony now." Alice nuzzled the back of his head. "When we get far enough away we'll leave him some place safe," she continued unconvincingly.

Ziva shook her head adamantly and stood her ground, her aim never wavering. "Not going to happen."

"Have it your way. " Alice deftly moved the knife so the tip was now resting at a point just below his Adam's apple. "You know I can do this so he chokes to death on his own blo..."

Her words were cut short and transformed abruptly into a pain-filled cry of pure agony as Tony appeared to slump forward pulling her slightly off-balance, and before she had the chance to right herself he jerked his head up and back with as much force as possible; relishing the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage as his skull impacted with her nose.

"Lady, you are really starting to piss me off," he growled weakly, as he tried to scramble away in an attempt to give Ziva a clear shot. And he nearly made it too, until Alice struck out blindly with the knife plunging it into his left side.

"Oh, crap," was all he managed before he went down again, this time with Alice on top of him driving the blade in further - almost to the hilt. There was a shout - a familiar, commanding and most definitely pissed-off male voice - a scream, followed by a barrage of thunderous blasts that resonated in the normally tranquil setting. The woman's body jerked convulsively and then something warm, sticky and… hinky… pelted Tony's face a split second before the crushing weight was gone - just like that.

He lay there, listening to some guy's ragged, labored breathing, unaware that it was his own. More voices now, some raised in alarm, others barking out orders; but the sounds and the vaguely familiar faces looming above Tony lost any meaning as his world started to fade into a dull gray and then finally to black nothingness.

* * *

"Next time don't hesitate. Take the damn shot David," Jethro Gibbs growled as he ran past her to get to Tony, re-holstering his Sig Sauer as he dropped to his knees beside his stricken agent. He barely acknowledged Alice's Spurlock's corpse, even though it was spread out grotesquely just a couple of feet away, minus some of her skull. He'd leave it for others to deal with the clear up. All he cared about at this precise moment in time was Tony.

Off to the side, Sheriff Coltrane was helping a traumatized Barbara Swain to her feet and leading her away from the gory scene.

"Oh my god!"

The usually non--squeamish and composed Ziva started to take several unconscious steps backwards when she got her first real close up look at her friend.

If Gibbs was aware of her distress, he didn't show it. He was working on automatic; quickly removing his jacket and shirt and tearing the latter into long strips which he wound around the hilt of the knife to keep it in place. Tony didn't stir or murmur, which was worrying.

"Stop gawping David, and get your ass down here." Gibbs' tone was sharper than intended, but despite his outward calm he was having a tough time keeping it together.

Ziva took a hesitant step forward, but then stopped when a hand squeezed her shoulder slightly. Jake Liddell gave her a wan smile as he took her place and dropped to his knees opposite Gibbs, who was now doing his best to wipe away the mess covering Tony's face - a mix of grime and a fair amount of Alice Spurlock's blood and brain tissue.

Liddell reached down to search for a pulse.

Nothing.

He and Gibbs instantly began CPR.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs growled with a spiraling sense of panic in between timed chest compressions. "If you die on me now and make…Abby… grieve, I'll swear I'll find a way to follow you into the here after and put a foot up your skinny …"

"I got something," Liddell cried out incredulously. Where he would be willing to swear under oath there had been absolutely nothing just a scant few moments before, was now a pulse, weak and thready but a definite sign of life.

He grinned at Gibbs. "Do your agents always do as they're told?

"Damn right."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**Epilogue**

"Tony's back, Tony's back ," Abby gave a high-pitched squeal as she literally bounced up and down in excitement and then propelled herself into his arms almost as soon as the elevator doors slid open.

"Hey Abs."

He did his best to conceal the sharp twinge of pain in his side behind a trademark smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes. He was glad to see her too.

"I've missed you so much," she advised, beaming happily up at him as they shuffled their way into the bullpen, with her arms latched firmly around his mid-section like some pig-tailed alien entity that was trying to suck the life out of its host. Jethro Gibbs followed a few steps behind the pair, looking amused. "It's no fun here without you," Abby lamented in the way that only she could. "Everyone's been in such a bad, bad mood…especially Gibbs," she narrowed her eyes and scowled at the man in question, who gave her a crooked half smile and an unrepentant shrug.

"Abigail my dear, perhaps it might be prudent to relinquish your rather enthusiastic hold on young Anthony…just for a moment or two," Ducky added kindly. "He seems to have gone a rather curious shade of green."

"Oops sorry." The young woman did as she was told, but still seemed unwilling to move too far away.

Tony shot Ducky a look of gratitude as he moved across to perch on the edge of his desk, aware that he was holding himself stiffly and limping slightly and that all eyes were on him.

Ducky observed with a mix of professional and personal concern.

The young man had suffered quite considerably; not least from the horrendous knife attack. He'd lost a lot of blood; would have some permanent scarring, had a cocktail of drugs forced into his system by the Spurlock woman; had been dangerously dehydrated, exhausted and that was just the tip of the iceberg. They hadn't yet begun to explore the long-term psychological effects resulting from his ordeal and from his misplaced guilt over Megan O'Neal's death.

That was one of the reason's he'd been discharged from the hospital a few days earlier than expected. He'd wanted to attend her memorial service, which had taken place that morning.

Gibbs, of course, had insisted on going with him - hence the dark formal suits they both wore - unwilling to let Tony face the O'Neal family on his own when they were unsure of the reception he'd get.

Of course, the press had had a field day with this one, milking the story for all it was worth. They'd even caught a couple of the scumbags red-handed staking out Tony's private room at the hospital.

The media frenzy had gradually died down when a better story came along, and as it turned out Gibbs needn't have worried about the O'Neal's. Megan's parents had been emotional but entirely welcoming to the young man and made it clear that the only person to blame for their daughter's death was Alice Spurlock and to a lesser degree Barbara Swain. Though they might have come to terms with the tragedy, Gibbs knew they had their work cut out to convince Tony. Which was why one of the conditions of his premature release from hospital and return to light desk duty, was that he agreed to some heavy-duty counseling sessions with the staff shrink.

"Ooh, ooh, Tony, come see what we got for you." Back in full hyper-active mode Abby none too gently pushed Tony down into the chair behind his desk, which was laden with assorted cards and packages.

"Cool, presents." Both Gibbs and Ducky noted that his smile this time was genuine and less strained as he picked over his bounty.

"This one's from me." Abby thrust a small box at him which he opened enthusiastically, though the smile soon froze in place.

"What is it?" he asked warily, lifting it out by its handy chain and dangling the dark green shiny bug thing intricately edged in gold almost at arms length.

Gibbs looked up and snorted, and then went back to sorting through his mail.

"It's a Scarab Beetle," Abby advised brightly. "The Ancient Egyptian's worshipped them you know."

"Indeed they did, Abigail," Ducky contributed. "Scarab amulets were often placed on the hearts of their mummified deceased. Now I have a feeling they found some of these little fellows perfectly preserved in the tomb of…"

"Yeah, yeah I saw the movie," Tony cut in, looking stricken as a horrible thought occurred. "Hey, it's not cursed or something is it?"

"Don't be silly," Abby scolded, snatching the chain from his fingers and looping it over his head before he had time to object. "They're also supposed to ward off evil and I want you to promise to wear it at all times."

"Who knows, you could start a fashion trend," Ziva joined in as she and McGee arrived back from the lunch run. She leaned across Tony's desk, her lips coming tantalizingly close to his, only to give the scarab chain a playful tug. "It will make a tasteful change from your usual tacky medallion when you next go out clubbing."

She ruffled his hair affectionately and then gave him a wink as she headed over to her work station to dump her stuff, leaving Tim McGee to hover in her place.

"Good to have you back, Tony," he said sincerely.

"Good to be backing Prob…McGee."

"Those are from me." McGee pointed first at a CD "It's '_The Soothing Sound of Pan Pipe Music'…_various artists and…uh…a box of Krispy Kreme donuts, including your favorite… with the sprinkles."

"Thanks McGee." Tony was genuinely touched. He lifted the lid of the box with relish - almost as if it was some treasured religious artifact - and then scowled at the almost empty contents, including a half-eaten donut minus most of its sprinkles. His bottom lip trembled. "Is this a joke?"

"Maybe your pet bug ate them!" Ziva offered helpfully, wiping a crumb from the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger.

Her reward was a soft warning growl and a flicker of a devilish grin that spoke of future pay-back. Tony waved the scarab pendant in her direction.

"Abs, I thought this thing was supposed to protect me from evil?"

"_Hey_!" Gibbs reprimanding tone cut across the bullpen. "You wanna see if it'll protect you from the sharp end of my boot. Now back to work, all of you."

The group dispersed quickly; Ducky and Abby towards the elevator, with McGee and Ziva settling down at their desks.

When Gibbs looked back in his direction, Tony was staring at him and their gazes locked for a brief moment, with something almost subliminal passing between the two. Gibbs gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head and Tony grinned, spinning his chair to face his computer monitor and jabbing the 'on' switch.

Gibbs sighed. Now the team was whole again maybe things could get back to normal, or at least what passed for normal at NCIS.

* * *

**Westmore State Hospital - West Virginia. Secure Psychiatric Wing.**

Barbara hummed contentedly to herself as she glued another picture into her album. It was a complete labor of love and she could loose herself for hours just thumbing through the pages.

Most of her former husbands had let her down badly, but she knew this one never would. For a start he had maturity on his side and a wealth of experience.

And this time she had no intention of sharing him with anyone else.

Hearing a sound in the corridor outside her room she quickly gathered together her mementos, stashing them for the moment under her nightstand until she could find a better hiding place.

The door opened and one of the nurses peered in. "Barbara, its supper time."

"Coming Martha."

She waited until the woman had left before carefully retrieving one small treasured item to carry with her, close to her heart - a photograph of Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

THE END


End file.
